Romantic Comedies and Secret Identities
by FlowerOwl
Summary: Life as a university student did not leave Malon with a lot of free time, but she and Zelda did their best to make time for each other, even if it was not always an easy task. In fact, Malon would perhaps have said that it was quite the challenge. And that was before a superhero named Sheik decided to take it upon himself to save the city.


If someone asked Malon what her favourite thing was, she could not promise that watching films with Zelda, the two of them sitting on their tiny couch, Malon fitting perfectly into Zelda's embrace, would be the first thing she would think off, but it did definitely belong in that category.

The film—some romantic comedy Zelda had continued to claim she did not care about, even as she had cried, hiding her face in Malon's hair—had hardly ended before their TV resumed the never-ending stream of stern people in suits sitting behind a desk as they reminded them of everything that was wrong in the world, only interrupted by the occasional talk show going in the completely opposite direction, acting like watching it would somehow create a better world for everyone.

But right now, their TV had settled on the last option.

"As a recent twist in the series of crimes that ended up being stopped by a mysterious stranger appearing at the last second to save the victims, we, here at Hyrule Week, can inform you that the person behind all of this is none other than a person who can best be described as Hyrule's very own superhero," the host said, fixing the camera and audience with a smile that was just slightly too wide to look natural.

Pressing herself closer to Zelda and enjoying the way Zelda's arms felt around her shoulders as she began absentmindedly stroking her hair, Malon gestured towards the TV.

"How much are you willing to bet that they haven't actually found the one responsible for stopping crimes?" she asked, earning a chuckle from Zelda.

"I don't know, she seems quite confident that they have found the right person."

That much Malon could agree with Zelda on, especially as the woman hosting the show flashed another brilliant grin before gesturing towards the empty seat next to her. "And to make it even better, we managed to reach out to them, asking them if they would be interested in taking part in an interview, and to tell the truth, we didn't dare to hope that we would get an answer, but we were wrong. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the hero of Hyrule!"

Malon had to raise her voice to ensure that Zelda could hear her over the thunderous applause coming from the TV. "Okay then, I have to give it to you, they really do seem confident. Now, we will just have to wait and see what they are going to ask this hero," noticing the lack of a little sign saying 'live' in the corner, she added, "but they have filmed this beforehand, that's a bit suspicious, don't you think?"

From her spot next to Malon, Zelda hummed, planting a kiss on Malon's cheek. "I don't know. It is probably just so that people can't figure out the hero's secret identity. But let's just sit back and watch, then we will get the answer, right?"

Even though Malon would have liked to find a flaw in Zelda's reasoning, she couldn't really argue against the fact that a pre-recorded interview was probably a good idea when the person being interviewed wanted to keep their identity a secret. So she ended up nodding, settling into Zelda's embrace.

The applause in the studio didn't end. In fact, it got louder as the camera turned to film someone stepping up onto the stage and walk over to sit down in the empty chair next to the host.

She might not exactly have liked the idea of some random stranger running around in the city, having decided that stopping crime was their responsibility alone, but Malon still had to admit that, if nothing else, they did have a cool costume: different shades of blue covering almost the entirety of their body and a white piece of fabric making it so that she could only spot their eyes, soon finding herself wondering if their blood red colour was natural or the result of contact lenses. It seemed that the hero had wrapped some kind of bandages loosely around their torso, a look Malon could see repeated along their arms. To finish it all off, they had a white layer of cloth hanging in front of their chest with the Sheikah symbol of a red eye shedding a single tear painted onto it. Malon had to admit that though she was not a fan of the entire concept of the kind of hero this person seemed to portray, the costume _was_ amazing.

"So," the host began, already reaching out to touch the hero's arm, and Malon could see how the hero flinched slightly upon the sudden contact, "I think a lot of us have been looking forward to getting a chance to meet Hyrule's saviour."

After the affirmative yells from the audience members had stopped, the hero nodded. "I did get that impression from the way you spoke about the idea of this interview." there was something about their voice… Malon couldn't put it into words, but she had a feeling she had heard it before. It was quite high-pitched, almost so much that Malon would not have any trouble believing that the hero was consciously trying to change how their voice sounded in an attempt to not be recognised. She couldn't come up with a reason why they hadn't done that with the help of technology, but something about her theory just sounded like it was correct.

The host laughed, a sharp, little sound as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, I was certainly quite insistent, wasn't I?"

With the scarf covering the hero's mouth, Malon couldn't be sure that they were indeed smiling, but the way the skin around their eyes wrinkled up told her that she was right to think that was the case.

"You were. I was about to fear that you would go out and put yourself in danger just to get another chance to ask, so, you know," they pointed towards themselves, tilting their head slightly to the side, "I knew that I had to agree to come here—if nothing else, then to make sure you would not end up doing just that."

"Well, you weren't wrong about that. If you had not answered our latest attempt of contacting you, I do think my boss would have asked me to do just that. I'm joking, I'm joking!" the host said, holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. From the reaction she got from the audience—a loud laugh—it had not been needed at all. "But," the host continued, "now that we do have you in here, I think the entire city if not the entire nation is eager to hear your answers to some of the questions we have all been asking yourselves ever since the first time we heard about you. Are you ready for them?"

"As ready as I will ever be."

"Great! Okay, to start off, which pronouns can we use for you?"

"Oh," the hero said, and for a moment, Malon could almost feel the secret that was their identity slip, surprise seeping into their voice as it got slightly deeper than it had been before, "I would like if you could refer to me as either he or him. And if you need a name, then you can call me Sheik."

"Good, you heard that," the host turned in her seat to look into the camera, "this is Sheik, and he has just told us all which pronouns to use when referring to him. Now, onto your involvement with the police and the government—"

Malon looked over at Zelda. "Did he just ask for people to call him Sheik? He had the chance to pick any name, and he really chose Sheik."

"What's wrong with that name?" Zelda asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Nothing, but it's not very… I don't know, superhero-y. Can you imagine someone saying 'We will just have to wait and see what happens. Sheik is our only hope now'? Because I know that I can't picture that happening."

Shifting to look over at Malon, Zelda giggled at the thought. "Then what name would you have picked?"

"I don't know. Probably Epona."

"You would have named yourself after your car?" Zelda teased her, nudging her with her elbow. "I think it is probably for the best that you aren't the one who just had to pick a name for your secret identity on national television."

"Oh, Sheik has definitely had more than just those few seconds to think about his name. Practically the entire city has spent these last few weeks wondering what his name is. You should have seen the last time Aryll and Linkle began to talk about his name—it felt like the discussion could have lasted for ages had it not been for the fact that I was there as well."

"Was there a discussion about that? I wasn't aware."

"Yeah, right," Malon laughed, playfully shoving her girlfriend, "with the amount of times Aryll and Linkle have texted me for my input in the debate about what to call Sheik, I must have told you about it at least a couple of times. Now, I won't have to come up with a reason not to take a side anymore."

"Because you totally hate being the deciding vote," Zelda teased, before leaning in for another kiss, something Malon gladly responded to by tilting her head upwards for her lips to meet Zelda's.

In the TV, the interview continued, but the noise was soon filtered out by Malon's brain

"Malon?"

The sound of Zelda's voice made Malon put the mascara away again to make her way towards the bathroom.

She stopped right outside the door to knock. "Yeah?"

"I can't reach the zip fastener," there was a sound of something hitting the floor, and Malon was certain that it had been some poor shampoo container Zelda had pushed over while attempting to reach the zip, especially as her girlfriend's voice got a bit higher, "will you please help me?"

"Sure." Malon was already pressing down on the door handle, being careful not to open it too quickly just in the event that Zelda would be standing directly behind it. The slightly alarmed squeak that reached her through the door as it began moving told her that it had been a good idea, and when she stepped into the tiny bathroom, Malon could see Zelda struggling to both make space for her as well as extending her arm just a bit more, clearly in the hope that she would somehow be able to reach the zip fastener. Judging from the distance between Zelda's hand and the zip, Malon would agree with her without hesitation that there was no way Zelda would have succeeded in zipping up the dress on her own.

"Great, you're here!" there was barely enough space in the bathroom for one person and now that Malon was there as well, it was nothing short of a miracle that made Zelda able to turn around without knocking over the rest of the bottles standing on the counter. "Here, can you help me close this?"

"Yeah, no problem."

Malon moved over, already reaching out towards the zip fastener when she noticed it.

There, just to the left of Zelda's spine was a thin, red line. A cut, Malon realised after half a second of staring at it in confusion. It was right there, and though Malon would be the first to admit that she was no expert when it came to that kind of wounds—she was more used to the scrapes that so often appeared all over her body after falling from a tree—it looked like it had been painful, the skin around it slightly pinker and swollen than the area surrounding it.

"Uh, Zelda," Malon began, not taking her eyes off the cut, "have you been doing anything involving sharp objects lately?"

A short chuckle escaped Zelda as she turned her head, trying to both keep still and look at Malon. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

"Well, you have a cut on your back, and it looks kind of painful," Malon answered, pointing towards the line.

"Oh, that!" there was something weird about the way Zelda pronounced the words, almost like she stressed the wrong syllables, her voice slightly higher-pitched than it usually was. "Yeah, I think I walked into something yesterday. I didn't realise it was actually so bad that it had left a mark."

"Mhm," Malon said. There was something off about it all, but she couldn't figure out exactly what it was. Zelda coming home with small cuts and bruises was not entirely unusual. In fact, her girlfriend often joked about not even bothering to notice when she had bumped into furniture because it was so common for her, but this was something else. Malon could see that the wound had been bleeding recently, a thin, dried cake of blood sticking to the edge of the zip fastener. How could Zelda not have noticed getting a cut that had been that deep?

Zelda must have guessed what she was thinking for she turned around to take her hand, squeezing it lightly. "Look," she said, her face lighting up like it always seemed to do to Malon when Zelda would send her that kind of smile, "it's just a minor cut, don't worry about it. I promise you that it doesn't hurt. I was just a bit distracted, and then I must have walked into something. That's all."

Finally, Malon nodded, accepting the explanation and the easy way out Zelda was offering her. "Okay. Just please promise me that you will try to be just a bit more careful from now on. I really don't want to be the one to find out that you ended up getting seriously hurt because you bumped into something."

"I promise."

And just like that, they were back to helping each other get ready, chatting about what film they should pick through it all. If Malon just so happened to notice that Zelda winched slightly as they sat down in their seats in the cinema, the moment her calm behaviour slipped to make way for the pain coming at the exact moment her back made contact with the seat, she did her best not to think too much about.

Zelda knew what she was doing, she always had. Malon had to trust that.

The smell coming from the casserole did not exactly bode well for the result of Malon's culinary adventure. Crinkling up her nose, Malon hoped that it was not beyond fixing and began stirring a bit more.

It didn't make sense, she had done exactly what the recipe had told her, she had stayed right next to the cooking pot the entire time, so what could have gone wrong? The niff coming from the pot of veggie cream soup smelt decidedly burnt, but she had been _right there_ the entire time, making sure that the contents of the pot would not get the chance to give up on her, but it seemed that it had all been for nothing.

Well, if it turned out that she would not be able to save it, Malon supposed she could always make fried eggs instead—Zelda loved those.

The sound of her phone playing her ringtone, an old recording of Zelda signing Ballad of the Goddess, pulled Malon away from her musings about the reason for her failure. Quickly pulling the casserole away from the burner, Malon went to grab her phone.

"Hello," Malon said, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Malon, I am so sorry, something came up and I can't get out of it, I won't be home until late, not before ten and probably not even before eleven—" Zelda's voice answered her, sounding slightly scratchy as Malon fought to both readjust the phone to make the sound clearer and make sense of what was happening.

"Wait, what," she interrupted, "what do you mean you aren't coming home until eleven?"

Her girlfriend sounded stressed and tired when she answered. "I am sorry, but something came up at work, and you know how it is—I can't just leave, the others need me right now."

"But this was supposed to be _our_ night," Malon protested weakly, already hearing how Zelda's hectic mumbling in the phone—just muffled enough for Malon to not be able to make out exactly what she was saying, but clear enough for het to get the gist of it; that Zelda was under quite a lot of pressure right then— was already making her give in. Still, Malon was not about to give up just yet, "I am already finished with dinner and everything."

Well, almost finished with dinner. On the stove, the soup was giving off a distinctive smell of Malon having messed up something in the process, but Zelda didn't need to know that right then.

"I know," Malon could almost hear how Zelda was reaching up to run a hand through her hair as she continued, "and I am really sorry, but I just _can't_ leave right now. Look, how about we move this date night to next week? Then I promise that I will be there."

She knew that Zelda did not have much of a choice in the matter, and that the few times that something went wrong in the laboratory, it resulted in a lot of overtime for everyone involved. Still, this was one of the first nights in weeks they had had just for themselves, why did it have to be today that something went wrong?

Even though Malon was able to see that there was nothing Zelda could do about it, she couldn't fight the sigh making its way out of her mouth. "I was just really looking forward to this. A romantic evening, just you and I"

"And I am sorry for not being able to be there, but I have to do this. Please, I know that this night means a lot to you, and, trust me, I had been looking forward to it for weeks as well, but I have to be here for now."

She had to let it go. As much as Malon didn't want for it all to go to waste—the dish she had spent the last couple of hours preparing, the time they had spent searching for a date where they could both get home early, the anticipation in the days leading up to it—she knew that Zelda would never have done anything that might lead to her not getting home in time if it had not been important.

It still hurt that she had to stand there and lie, telling Zelda that it was fine, but it was what she had to do. After all, even if Malon was disappointed, she did not want Zelda to know that. That would only lead to Zelda blaming herself, and one of them being upset was more than enough already.

"Okay," Malon sighed, "I can see that. We will just move this to another day then, won't we?"

The response was immediate.

"Yes, I am thinking sometime next week?" Zelda spoke quickly, and Malon got the feeling that she was trying to end the conversation. But Malon didn't get a chance to comment on it, before Zelda was talking again. "I am sorry that this came up now, I hope that you haven't already made dinner."

Turning slightly to look over at the stove, Malon could see the creamy surface of the soup. As long as she breathed through her mouth rather than her nose, she could almost make herself believe that she had reached the intended result.

"No, not at all," she lied, "I was actually just about to start preparing dinner, so it was nice you called in time."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"Yeah, I think I will just grab something simple—boil an egg or something."

"You and your eggs," Zelda teased her, and Malon could hear how Zelda shifted the phone around, the volume of the background noises intensifying for a moment. She wasn't sure, but right then, Malon could have sworn she heard something about being in a hurry. Well, from what Malon had heard about Zelda's job, when things went wrong in the lab it did also mean that the employees were in a hurry to fix it.

Still, something didn't feel right as Zelda said goodbye yet again, ending the call before Malon had the chance to return the sentiment, but even though Malon tried her best to figure out what had caused the sinking feeling in her stomach, she was not able to put it in words. Instead, she went over to the stove to begin the task of clearing everything away.

Even though the smell coming from the soup told her that it was probably not worth the effort, Malon still poured it over into a container to put it in the fridge. Perhaps Zelda would like to taste it when she got home, Malon didn't really know, though she was sure that she did not want to dig into the result of her adventure in the kitchen. To tell the truth, she wasn't feeling hungry at all, though she did still force herself to search through the fridge and return to the stove with the egg tray. Before long, the egg was lying in boiling water, and as the minutes passed, Malon slowly began to feel less sorry for herself.

It was fine, this was just how it was sometimes; when your girlfriend was like Zelda—smart, ambitious, always willing to stay behind to make sure the job got done properly—there were just certain things you had to sacrifice. And if this, the romantic dinner they had planned for weeks, would be one of those sacrifices, then Malon could hardly complain about it all, could she?

Sitting down on the couch and placing the plate with the bread and the egg on the table in front of her, Malon grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Had Zelda been home, she knew that the blonde would have sighed before reminding Malon of the importance of taking time to enjoy her food and creating a nice atmosphere around dinner, but Zelda was not there, and the silence of the almost empty flat was starting to get to Malon, so she ignored the voice in the back of her head that told her to get up and sit down at the table, and began to switch through the channels, hoping for something to catch her eye.

But no such luck. There was a film—yet another romantic comedy, and if there was one thing Malon didn't want to see right then it was romantic comedies—, a documentary, and a couple of talk shows.

Malon was about to give up and go back to the documentary, but something kept from pressing the button, her hand stopping just over the remote. Was that Zelda's voice? Looking around, Malon almost allowed herself to believe that the entire story about the incident at lab was nothing but a lie to allow Zelda to surprise her. Maybe the hopeful warmth that flooded her chest was the reason why her stomach felt even heavier when Malon realised that she had been imagining things. The only sounds in the room came from the utensils scraping over the plate and the guest in the talk show.

She could have cursed herself. Of course Zelda was not about to come home to surprise her. They both knew how much her job at the laboratory meant to Zelda, there was no way she would lie about it.

in the talk show, Malon could see Sheik talk about some award he had been given by the people he had saved, repeating over and over again how thankful he was for the opportunity he had been granted both by the police and the politicians as well as the people on the street to help out where he could, but that he was not doing it for the prestige, and although he appreciated the gesture, nobody should feel obligated to do anything for him.

It was petty, but Malon couldn't help but wonder who this guy thought he was. If he really didn't want people to show respect for him by awarding him a prize, then he should have declined being a guest on the talk show, and he definitely should not have accepted the award in the first place.

At some point during the talk show, the irritation and self-pity must have turned into tiredness, for Malon found herself waking up, the plate still on the table, but the room shrouded in darkness as the sun had disappeared behind the horizon. However, there was still no sign of Zelda, and one look at the TV told her that the talk show was still not finished, so Zelda would most likely not be home for at least another hour.

Well, Malon was not going to wait up for her to get home, so after putting away the service, she padded into the bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, not even bothering to pull the duvet over her before she fell asleep.

The next time she woke up was to the feeling of someone slipping into the bed next to her and gently tucking her in.

Zelda.

She should probably have showed that she was aware of Zelda's presence, give both of them a chance to talk things through. After all, none of them really wanted to fall asleep still feeling angry at the other, but she was just so tired and the lengthy conversation that would surely follow if Malon admitted that it had hurt more than what she had allowed herself to show when Zelda had been able to cancel their plans without a second thought was more than she had energy for right then. Besides, she didn't want an apology; she just wanted her romantic evening back.

Perhaps she was not as good at pretending to be asleep as she had thought, for Malon could feel Zelda look down at her for a moment, almost able to see how the blonde was lying on her side as she waited for her to say something.

"I saw the soup in the fridge," Zelda finally said, and Malon squeezed her eyes shut even more, trying her best to hide any signs of her being awake, "I am so sorry. I didn't know that you had done all of that… I"

At last it seemed that Zelda realised Malon would not wake up to tell her that it was all okay, that Malon was totally fine with how the evening they had been planning for weeks had just gone down the drain, for she went silent, and before long, Malon could hear how her breathing got slower and more even.

But even after Zelda had fallen asleep, Malon found herself staring out into the darkness for a long time, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her that there was something she had missed.

Zelda came home the next day, almost bouncing up and down as she informed Malon that she had a surprise for her, her voice so full of giddy glee that it was almost as if the fiasco from the day before had never happened.

"I got us a table at Romani Ranch," Zelda exclaimed after Malon had made a couple of guesses, none of them being correct.

"Wait, how?" the words came out of her mouth before Malon really had a chance to fully let herself understand what was happening. Yesterday, Zelda had dropped their plan for a date, and now she had suddenly gotten reservations for one of the fanciest restaurants in the city. It didn't make much sense to Malon, but then again, that was how it had often been with Zelda; she would do something, and Malon would both be amazed at her ideas as well as slightly confused by what had led to the decision.

"I called in a couple of favours," Zelda said, like that alone explained everything. Maybe it did to Zelda, Malon couldn't really say anything about that, but she knew for certain that it did not clear up her own confusion. If anything, it only brought along even more questions: who was it that owed Zelda such a favour, and when had Zelda met this influential person?

Still, a date to Romani Ranch was hardly something to complain about, so Malon showed the feeling of there being something she was not seeing away, leaving it at the back of her mind, and smiled at Zelda.

"Great! Then I should probably go and figure out what to wear, right?"

Zelda nodded, her eyes practically sparkling. "Absolutely."

Malon looked from one dress to another and then back to the first again.

When Zelda had asked her if she could get the blue dress for her, was she referring to the light blue one or the one that was a darker shade but with little green dots scattered all over the fabric? Malon wasn't sure, but after comparing the dresses yet again, she decided to simply bring them both to her, then Zelda could figure out which one she had intended to wear.

As Malon went to stand up, lifting up both of the dresses, she felt something slip out of the bundle of fabric. Before she had the chance to do anything other than shift the garments in her arms in an attempt to see what had happened, she heard how something small and metallic hit the floor, a quiet clatter telling her that it was not something she had expected to find among Zelda's clothes.

Sitting back down and moving the two dresses out of her way, Malon tried to figure out what the object that had hit the floor was, leaning in to get a better look.

From what she could tell, it was some kind of thin sheet of metal. Picking it up and twisting it around told her that, yes, it was indeed metal, but even with that knowledge, Malon still had no clue what the thing actually was or what its purpose could be. It was cold and although the metal was light and slightly bendable, it seemed sturdy. Definitely not some kind of accessory Malon would have expected Zelda to pick out.

Perhaps it had been a present for Zelda?

Malon held the piece of metal up towards the light. Yeah, that had to be it. Someone had given it to Zelda, completely missing what style Zelda preferred and then Zelda had hid it away among her clothes, not wanting to admit that she usually preferred to wear long, flowy dresses.

She still had no idea how the thing was supposed to be worn, but as Malon showed the sheet of metal back down into the drawer she decided that it wasn't really any of her business. So, instead, she picked up the dresses again and went to bring them to Zelda.

"I just think that it is cool to see that an everyday person can help just as much as anyone else," Linkle announced in between bites, "I mean, it really makes you think about what change you can be in the world, doesn't it?"

Before Malon had a chance to say anything, Aryll had already chimed in. "Definitely! I heard that he stopped a kidnapping just last night, completely by himself. And the police hadn't been able to get to the location in time…" Aryll shuddered despite the warm weather, "… so he really was a hero there. Sometimes, I think that we might take him for granted, you know? At first, everyone was too busy trying to figure out who the person that seemed to just pop up every time someone was about to commit a crime was, and when we got that official statement both from the police and the government, people were quick to say that they were happy to see someone stand up to the injustices of the world, someone who knew how it was to just be a normal person, but now… I kind of get the feeling that we have grown too used to him being here to save us." Aryll paused, taking a thoughtful bite of her sandwich. As she chewed, Malon could see Aryll staring straight ahead in wonder, clearly not seeing the busy street around them.

For some reason, the constant insistence of almost everyone around her to make a big deal out of one person who just so happened to be in the right place at the right time, someone who just so happened to possess a skillset that was so much easier to recognise as heroic than so many others was starting to really get to her.

The annoyance must have showed on Malon's face for Linkle raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't agree, do you?"

"It's not that I don't think that Sheik is a hero," Malon said, attempting to not let her frustration get the better of her, "it's just that I think it is a bit too easy to point at someone who simply punches people and say that he is so brave and such a hero. What about everybody else, those who have jobs that don't allow them to get the same reputation as this Sheik-guy? Just look at Zelda, she might very well be on her way to inventing a universal cure for every illness or something like that, but, no, since she doesn't go around, punching people in dark alleys, no one will ever care about anything she does." she finished off her rant with a gesture towards the plate in front of her.

"Well, Sheik doesn't just 'punch people in dark alleys'," Aryll said, a small smile playing at her lips, "just look at his tweets, look at the statements the people he saved have made, he really takes his time to make sure that people are okay and that the public knows what he is doing—"

"Which is a smart move," Linkle cut in, seeing her chance to gush even more about Sheik and his heroic antics, "it means that if he is ever in a situation where he needs to get people out of the way, people will be less likely to panic, since they know him and know that he is there to help." she and Aryll turned towards each other, exchanging a short nod.

"I am not saying that he _isn't _smart, it's just—it's just…" Malon reached out to grab her glass, letting the coldness of the water inside calm her down. If she was rational, she could admit that there really was no reason for her to view all of the attention Sheik got as a reason for why Zelda could go to work each day in an attempt to improve the lives of everyone and not just a select few she happened to pass by and still not get any recognition for all of her hard work, but right then, she just wanted for people to let someone other than Sheik be the hero for a moment, "… Zelda saves lives as well. She just doesn't get the amount of attention and appreciation that Sheik does, all because it is easier to realise that someone has saved your life when they jump in front of a knife for you, but not when they help discover new ways to treat illnesses and such."

The knowing look Linkle and Aryll exchanged told her that the reasons for her, to be honest, quite childish dislike of the amount of fame Sheik had gotten weren't really a secret.

She was right, and the next moment, Linkle had sent a grin, using the straw from her glass of juice to point at her. "Is this about that promotion Zelda didn't get?"

"Maybe it is a little bit about that," Malon admitted, "but I am telling you, her boss had promised her that the next time she had a position like that open, Zelda would get it, and then she just went out and hired someone else. You should have seen Zelda when she got home that day, even though she tried to hide how she was feeling, it was still so obvious that she was sad." a piece of lettuce was slowly making its way out of the sandwich, and Malon pushed it back in between the slices of bread, pretending that she didn't notice the smiles her friends were sending her.

"You're acting like you would actually benefit from going out and try to fight crime like Sheik does, at least you have the same kind of 'I have to save everyone around me'-mindset that he must have," Aryll remarked, her words causing Linkle, who had just taken a sip of her drink, to laugh loudly before the sound was interrupted by loud coughs.

"Why is it so easy for me to picture that?" she laughed once Aryll was done trying to pat her on the back and she had waved her hand at Malon when the redhead had gotten up from her seat to try to help her. "The two of you patrolling the streets, looking out for people, letting your strong sense of justice guide you as you make your way through the city, leaving a trail of people you saved in your wake."

"I don't think I have ever considered becoming a hero or what it is Sheik is, but even if I wanted to do that, I don't think university would leave me with enough time to actually do that."

"Well," Linkle said, halfway standing up, her coughing fit not doing anything to quell the aura of righteousness it sometimes seemed she could turn on and off at will, "I know that if I got the chance to do what Sheik is doing, I would seize the opportunity right then and there, no matter what kind of personal sacrifice I would have to bring."

Seeing Linkle there, still having tears in her eyes after having spent several seconds coughing violently, but still somehow managing to look like someone who could fight any criminal in the world, emitting much more strength than Linkle's small frame should have made possible, made Malon's lips twist upwards into a tiny smile.

"And you would be amazing at it," Malon said, "trust me, if you ever get invited to be a guest in a talk show, I would be right there, cheering for you. But what about you, Aryll, do you also have dreams of getting a chance to be a hero like Linkle here?"

"I do, but I doubt my reasons are as selfless as Linkle's," Aryll laughed, "I would absolutely like to work together with Sheik, but not because I really want to put my life in danger, I just think he is beautiful, so of course I would like to get a chance to spend time with him."

"Yeah, that too," Linkle said, and it didn't take long until she and Aryll were busy giggling about the latest gossip they had heard about Sheik's dating life.

Malon leant back in her chair, letting herself rest for a moment. She needed to get theses chances to relax more often; now that she had been out there in the fresh air for a couple of hours, Malon could really see how big a change it had been from how she had spent the last week buried in her books, only taking breaks to eat and sleep, and even then she had been busy worrying about her imminent exams.

If Malon remembered Zelda's schedule correctly, Zelda would get home early the next day, so maybe she could suggest the two of them going on a walk.

Yeah, the more she thought about it, the surer she became that it would be a good idea for both of them, especially with how often Zelda had had to stay late at work recently only to not get the promotion she had been promised.

"Hello, are you there, Malon?"

Someone snapped their fingers close to her face, making Malon sit up straighter as she blinked a couple of times.

"Yes?"

"Oh, so you are awake," Aryll said, barely bothering to attempt to supress a smile as she shifted in her chair to get closer to Malon, "we began to think you had fallen asleep for a moment there."

"No, I was just thinking about stuff."

"Well, do you have any idea of who Sheik could be?" this time it was Linkle who leant in over the table. "Aryll says it has to be some university student, she thinks a student would be the only one with such a lack of regard for his own personal safety that he would go out and try to _find_ criminals to fight."

With her exams and the amount of time she had spent reading through her notes to prepare for them, it did seem like a plausible explanation to Malon.

Sending Linkle a wry smile, Malon tilted her head. "And you don't?"

"Nope!" Linkle popped the 'p', "I think he has a job, just think about how rarely he is spotted during the day, it is always late at night when someone sees him. But," Linkle said, focusing on Malon again, "what do you think?"

Malon shrugged. "I don't really know. To be honest, I don't know enough about the guy to come up with a qualified guess."

"Doesn't matter, we want to hear what you think," Aryll said, hitting the table with her hand to emphasise her words.

"Okay, then, calm down, don't take it out on the poor table," Malon joked before clearing her throat and continuing, "if I have to make a guess, I also think that Sheik has a job with regular working hours. Although I suppose he could just use the fact that people always sees him late at night as a way to make it harder for someone to figure out his identity."

With the new idea that could possibly be a way to figure out Sheik's identity, it didn't take long before Aryll and Linkle were once again busy discussing the different clues and 'proofs' someone had found about who Sheik really was, Malon chiming in from time to time when they asked her. To tell the truth, she was satisfied just letting Sheik do his work—she didn't need to know who the hero was. As long as he didn't turn out to become a supervillain, Malon really didn't care too much.

She had expected to have to spend at least a couple of minutes convincing Zelda to take a break from all of her overwork—ever since she had been denied the promotion, Zelda staying behind late at work seemed to have turned into a daily occurrence—but to her surprise and joy, it only took Malon walking into the living room to see Zelda sitting in the sofa with a book, her legs pulled up under her, and her mentioning the option of the two of them going for a walk, before Zelda agreed, getting up to put the book away. She was already halfway out of the door before Malon really realised that she had said yes.

Just a few minutes later, they had gone to a park near their home, not really sure where they were heading, and instead just strolled through the grassy lawns.

They had just passed by the pond when Malon noticed that Zelda was beginning to fidget quite a lot, constantly reaching into her pocket before tensing up, pulling her hand back out, before repeating the motion again.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"What?" Zelda looked up at her, eyes wide. Then, seemingly realising that her behaviour had not gone by unnoticed, she nodded, a strained smile not really succeeding in convincing Malon than everything was great. "Yeah, I was just thinking about something."

"Something I can help with?"

Zelda let out a low chuckle. "No, it's not anything serious, I just—"

She didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as the next word was drowned out by the sound of a police car rushing past them, the lights on top flashing and the noise that accompanied it almost enough to make Malon reach up and cover her ears. Luckily, it didn't take long before the car turned around the corner, the distance between the two of them and the police car making the sound of the siren less painful.

"Whoa, that was something," Malon commented. She turned around to look at Zelda, only to see the blonde stand perfectly still, staring in the direction the police car had been heading towards with a panicked look on her face, her mouth moving though not a word came out.

"I—I have to—" Malon heard Zelda whisper before she went silent again.

Debating whether or not it would be wise to touch Zelda right then and coming to the conclusion that it would be better not to, Malon settled on simply stepping closer to her. "Zelda, are you okay?"

That did the trick. Zelda blinked twice before looking over at Malon, this time like she truly did see her.

"Yes." the word came out sounding more like a cough than anything else, and Zelda cleared her throat before she tried again. "Yes, I am fine, just a bit worried about what has happened to make the police drive through a residential area like that. They could have hit someone."

"Well, no matter what the answer to that question is, let's not worry too much about it. After all, it is not like it is our job to fix it."

"Of course," Zelda nodded slowly, but Malon could hear the doubt in her voice, and she found herself wondering why Zelda would feel responsible for something she had no way of controlling. However, as Zelda looked back at her, moving her head slightly, the movement making her hair fall in front of her shoulders, Malon found that she didn't care much about the reason why, especially not as Zelda took her hand, winking at her, "we should probably not let it ruin our walk, should we?"

"Nope, let's go and watch the ducks, just to show the world that we can still enjoy ourselves," Malon agreed.

Zelda laughed and together they made their way back towards the pond.

When she stepped out into the dark living room, so tired that she could hardly see and with the simple goal of getting to the kitchen as quickly as possible, get a glass of water, and then hurry back to bed, only to hear a noise coming from the direction of the couch, it was only Malon quickly covering her mouth with her hand that kept her from letting out a surprised yell.

Slowly making her way over towards the couch, Malon leant in to see what had made the sound.

The answer turned out to be Zelda.

Having expected Zelda to spend the night at the lab, and with her brain still halfway asleep, Malon could not come up with a reason for why Zelda would lie there on the couch, still wearing the dotted dress that had flared out around her when she had done a little twirl to show it to Malon earlier that day, one leg propped up on the armrest and the other dangling over the edge of the couch as the piece of furniture was only barely long enough to accommodate her. She must have been dead tired when she got home, barely making it inside the door before she threw herself at the nearest soft surface to fall asleep. Malon could hardly blame her for that; lately, it seemed that Zelda did nothing but work, constantly staying late and leaving early, even having to sleep at work a couple of times to make sure she would be there on time the next morning. Though Zelda always seemed happy about it, or at least not complaining, Malon was not so sure that the behaviour was healthy, and this was the proof that she had been right about that.

She would have to talk with Zelda; Malon couldn't keep on staying silent and hope that her girlfriend knew what she was doing.

But now was not the time for them to have that kind of talk. Zelda needed rest, and though the couch was perhaps not the best place to sleep, Malon did not want to do anything to wake her up, not when Zelda seemed to spend every waking second worrying about her job. But perhaps that was what she needed to do? After all, sleeping in a bed had to be more comfortable than this.

As Malon stood there, silently debating if she should wake up Zelda to ask her if she wanted to come to bed, Zelda shifted, turning around and bringing her arms closer to her, shivering slightly.

That made the decision for Malon, and she manoeuvred herself around the couch, careful not to make a sound, to pick up the blanket hanging over the back of their armchair.

She couldn't exactly tuck it in around Zelda, not without risking waking her up at least, and from the look of it, Malon would say that Zelda needed to sleep more than anything right now. So she simply put the blanket over her, taking a moment to smooth out the fabric and make sure that it did not leave her feet exposed to the coldness of the flat.

Taking one last glance at her girlfriend, Malon nodded to herself. It would have to do for now.

When Malon woke up the next morning, she knew that she had missed her chance the moment she stepped into the living room, only to find it empty.

Zelda was already gone; having left a note on the fridge telling Malon that she would be home late. The smiley she had drawn underneath the message, blinking at Malon with a wide and emotionless grin, did not do anything to quell her worries. This had to end; there was no way Zelda could keep on working for so many hours each day, not without seriously hurting herself in the process.

Grabbing the note, Malon went to sit down at the dining table, mentally going over her options. None of them were great, she knew that, knew that if Zelda really wanted to do this, there wasn't a lot Malon could do about it. But she had to at least try.

Her chance arrived a couple of days later.

For the last couple of weeks, Zelda had begun to even spend her weekends in the lab, dismissing Malon's worries with a smile and an assurance that she was fine, just trying to get a little extra work done, no need to worry, so Malon had made sure to get up early, determined to get a chance to talk with Zelda before she would leave the house only to not come home until Malon had already gone to bed.

If Zelda was surprised to see Malon sit down at the dinner table to join her at breakfast, she didn't show it, continuing to pour rolled oats into her bowl. Malon watched her as she moved to grab the milk, noticing how Zelda's hands shook slightly as she tilted the container before picking up her spoon.

"Zelda," she finally began, and Zelda paused with the spoon halfway between the bowl and her mouth, looking over at Malon, "I'm worried about you."

The way Zelda lifted an eyebrow, a look of confusion spreading across her face, looked rehearsed, a bit too expected, almost like Zelda had anticipated this moment and prepared for it.

"Oh, why?"

"It's just…" Malon began before stopping. She had almost expected Zelda to just brush her off with another promise that she was fine, and now that Zelda had not only not done that, but also asked what exactly Malon worried about, Malon found herself unprepared, not sure how to put her feelings into words. Still, she was not about to just let Zelda leave for another long day of work without at least telling her what she had seen over the last couple of weeks, "… you are almost always working lately, or at least it feels like that to me. You are leaving before I get up and you don't get home until after I have gone to bed. I don't know how many hours of sleep you manage to make time for, but I know that it isn't enough. You look tired all the time, and you are tense, almost like you are constantly expecting something to go wrong."

All throughout Malon's little speech, Zelda had been sitting there silently, only moving to lower her spoon back into the bowl. She stayed that way for a couple of seconds afterwards as well, before she cleared her throat.

"I can see why you are worried, but I promise you that it is just a temporary thing. As soon as the workload grows smaller, I won't have to work so hard anymore."

"And what if it doesn't?"

Zelda raised her right eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"It has been this way for weeks now, and although I know that you love your work and would never complain about it, I don't think your body will be able to take this amount of stress for much longer," Malon stated, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she got to what had turned into her biggest fear over the last few weeks, "you may be able to force yourself to spend all of your time at work, but that doesn't mean it's healthy for you."

Silence.

They both sat there, staring at the other, neither of them looking away for even a moment. Malon could feel her heart beating hard, almost like she had been the one of them to spend weeks constantly at work without ever taking a break.

Zelda, meanwhile, kept her face almost perfectly blank, save for a slight twitch around her mouth, a movement that soon got accompanied by her blinking quickly. The tiny sign that she was fighting back the tears felt like a punch to the gut, and yet, Malon still stayed quiet, waiting for Zelda to say something, anything to ease her worries.

Just as Malon had resigned herself to the fact that her attempt at making Zelda see how bad things had gotten would not lead to anything and that Zelda would get up to walk out of the door, Zelda let out a long sigh.

"You want me to spend less time at work then?" her voice was flat, and Malon could not spot a hint of accusation or anger, though that did not stop her stomach from feeling like she had just eaten a kilo of cement as she nodded.

"Yes—or, well, I just want you to be able to relax from time to time. I know your career means a lot to you, but you will not be able to keep this amount of time spent at work up for very long—not without burning out completely."

When Zelda responded, her voice was soft. "Malon, I love you, so if you are worried about me, I will try my best to be able to spend more time here with you."

Malon bowed her head, her entire body feeling much lighter than before. "Thank you."

As it turned out, not having to spend so much of her time worrying about Zelda meant that Malon also found herself able to calm down far more easily than before.

And maybe the time she had spent trying to convince Zelda to put less of a strain onto herself was part of the reason as to why Malon was able to smile when both Linkle as well as Aryll practically bombarded her with texts telling her how Sheik had made some sort of announcement, telling the public that though he would still be there to protect them, he had to take care of himself and the people he loved as well, and that, for the time being, he would not be able to spend so much time looking out for people as he had done before.

She was still not the biggest fan of the self-proclaimed hero, but realising that you had to take care of yourself before working on saving the rest of the world was something Malon could respect.

It was already dark outside when Malon's singing lesson ended and she exited the building, already dreading the two essays she had waiting for her back at home. In between her general worry about Zelda's behaviour those last couple of months and the texts she had gotten from Aryll and Linkle, discussing their theories about the reasons Sheik had decided to take a break, the amount of homework she had pushed aside with a promise that she would finish it the next day had steadily built up, until it had turned a small mountain. However, as soon as she got home, Malon promised herself that she would sit down and write like her life depended on the amount of words she could get onto a page, only stopping once she was finished with it all.

But she as soon as she turned around the corner, a scream pierced the air, and all of Malon's good intentions of doing her homework disappeared, as she froze up, frantically searching for any signs of movement as she tried to locate the source of the sound. For a moment, the shriek echoed through the narrow space between two of the buildings behind her, leaving only a remnant of the sound behind to repeat over and over again in Malon's head even after the usual level of noise had returned once more.

She was alone in the street. The tall buildings that lined both sides of the street loomed above her, and although Malon could see light coming from a few of the windows, it did not seem that anyone were trying to get them open to see what was going on outside. Even as she forced herself to stand still, waiting a few seconds more to see if anyone were going to react, Malon already knew that the sound had not been loud enough for anyone inside one of the blocks of flats to be able to hear it

If someone were to do something about it, it would have to be her.

So, quickly reaching into her pocket to grab her keys, Malon began to run towards the spot where she assumed the person calling for help had been, trying to stay as quiet as she could. With the way her heart was beating rapidly, the sound of her blood running through her body echoing in her ears, Malon had a hard time believing that she achieved the goal, but right then, it didn't matter. What mattered was how the scream repeated again, assuring her that she was heading in the right direction, and how the coldness of the keys against the palm of her right hand felt like promise that, no matter what, she would be safe.

Malon sprinted around the corner, having to push against the block wall of the building across from her to allow her to not slow down during the turn. Despite how the streetlights out in the street had already been turned on when Malon had stepped outside, there was no kind of lightning in the alley. A few times, Malon had almost managed to trip over the uneven pavement slabs, the seconds feeling like they lasted an eternity as she regained her balance each time. But even as she had to jump to keep herself from falling over, Malon did not slow down, the adrenaline allowing her to ignore the way she was not fit for breaking into a sprint so suddenly and how her legs were starting to hurt.

Turning around another corner, Malon came to an abrupt stop. In front of her, another building towered up over her. It was a blind alley.

Muttering a curse under her breath that would surely have made her dad gasp, Malon pressed herself up against the side of the wall to her left, hopping that the sound of her feet against the stones beneath her and the way she was fighting to catch her breath would be enough to catch the attention of the people in front of her.

Towards the far end of the alley, she was able to make out the faint outline of two people. From the way that one of them was sobbing, the tears only interrupted by their plea for the other not to hurt them, and the fact that Malon could see how the other was using one hand to point some kind of object at them, their other arm wrapped around their neck, constantly stepping backwards and pulling the victim along with them, Malon did not need to wait any more to know that she had to act fast if she wanted to prevent a kidnapping.

Slowly inching closer, she closed her hand around two of the keys, hoping that her makeshift weapon would be enough for her to win the fight she was sure would ensure if she stepped out of the protective shadow the building next to her provided.

Where was a hero when you actually needed them? In that moment, Malon would have been ready to apologise for all the times she had been annoyed at how the entire nation had become infatuated with Sheik, admitting that sometimes heroes were indeed needed, if only the hero in question would come to both her as well as the other person's rescue.

But, of course, no one would come to help her; no triumphant music would appear to announce Sheik's arrival. It had been stupid of her to even imagine it.

Abandoning the hope of receiving help at the last second, Malon racked her brain for any way to stall the process and buy herself enough time to figure out what she could do. Her phone was still lying at home on her bedside table, Malon having decided that since she would only leave the house for a few hours to attend her singing lessons, there was no need for her to take it with her—a stupid mistake, not one she would allow herself to make ever again—so calling the police was not an option, not that it had ever been with the way the situation was looking. Even if Malon would have been able to communicate and explain exactly what was happening without anyone hearing her, it would not have been possible for the police to arrive in time.

But then what?

Another whimper pulled her out of her thoughts, and Malon allowed herself to lean forward slightly, trying to use the sparse lightning coming from the windows up high above them to try to estimate how much time she had left before she had to have a plan ready.

Her chest tightened with panic as she saw how the man with his arm wrapped around the victim's neck had managed to pull them almost all the way over towards the building signifying the end of the alley, extending one arm behind him, fumbling in what Malon assumed was the search for a door. Even from where she was standing, a good twenty metres away, Malon could hear him threaten the other to stand still.

She had to do something _now_.

Not seeing any other alternative that would not involve her letting the man succeed in his plan, Malon stepped out from the shadow, taking a deep breath to calm herself—even if she did not accomplish the goal—before she let out a yell.

"Stop!"

The effect was immediate. Malon heard how the man in front of her lost his grip on the door handle, the door slamming shut with a loud sound, the volume only amplified by the otherwise eerie silence in the alleyway.

"Let go now!" Malon continued, forcing herself to ignore how everything in her was screaming for her to run and stay out of this, and instead slowly make her way over towards the two persons in front of her, trying her best to keep her pace even in an attempt to appear less scared than she felt. Fake it until you make it. It was something Linkle had used to tell her. Malon hoped that she would never have to tell Linkle just how she had ended up using her advice.

She was painfully aware just how big the risk of the kidnapper figuring out that she was bluffing was. Even in the darkness of the alley, there was no way he could not see just how much she was shaking or how tight her grip around the keys was.

Or maybe there was, for as Malon got close enough to realise that the person in front of her was wearing some kind of white fencing outfit paired with a cape—the strange outfit only making Malon have to fight even harder to keep her hands from shaking so much that she would drop her keys—the man in question moved to press the object against the throat of his victim.

"Please," he said, and as he tilted the weapon, its metallic surface reflecting the faint lightning, there was no doubt about it being a knife, "do come closer. But I should warn you beforehand that I will not allow you to interfere, and that if you make any sudden movement, you will have this man's death on your conscience."

Malon stopped dead in her tracks, and despite how she fought to come up with an idea of what to do, the only thing there was room for in her mind was pure and blind panic.

And perhaps the kidnapper sensed that, for he sent her a smirk, once again reaching backwards to search for the door handle. "I see that you do still possess enough sense to know when a situation is out of your control—I must admit that surprises me a bit; I had assumed that, in the wake of Sheik, soon everyone would think that they could begin to run around the city, getting involved in things that do in no way concern them." while speaking, he tightened his grip around the other man's neck, bringing the knife a bit closer, until Malon could see how the man's face went deathly pale as he eyed the knife, unable to breathe with the knife pressed against his throat making even the slightest movement fatal.

"Just let him go," Malon tried, though she knew that her attempt was futile, "how can it possibly help you to kidnap this man? If you let him go, I promise that I will not call the police right now."

But the kidnapper only smiled at her. "And what makes you think that you, some random girl who just happened to stumble across me, are any threat to me? I am already doing you a favour simply by letting you get the chance to run away—do not test your luck."

Her breathing was growing faster and faster, as she looked around for anything she could use as a distraction. But no such luck. Apart from the three of them, the alley was deserted.

"But why?" she asked once more.

"Why? Are you really asking me why I am breaking the law?" the kidnapper's voice rose a bit, as he imitated Malon's tone before sending her a twisted copy of a smile, devoid of any of the warmth Malon associated with such a gesture. "To be perfectly honest: because I can. You might think that your new hero is this great gift from above, capable of saving all of you fools, but he are not. The man I work for was able to tolerate it at the beginning, but now, we have all grown tired of seeing you fawn over Sheik, and I, for one, will relish the day that you realise just how helpless you really are."

Halfway through his speech, he closed his hand around the door handle, and as he began to push open the door, all rational thoughts left Malon's brain, leaving only the knowledge that she could not allow him to make his way into the building with his victim.

She broke into a mad dash, pulling her right hand up to her chest, the keys poking out, as she readied herself for an attack.

Perhaps Malon was faster than she knew, or maybe the sheer amount of stupidity that fuelled her had taken the kidnapper by surprise. No matter the reason, fact was that he failed to react in time, allowing Malon to get up close and punch the arm that was holding the other man in place away, her keys being pushed back against the palm of her own hand as she made contact, her punch carrying an amount of force that even Malon had not expected.

But it worked, momentarily stunning the kidnapper, and allowing Malon to push him back and away from her before turning around to see that the third person was still there, staring at her with an empty look in his eyes.

"Run!" she bellowed, all sympathy leaving her to make room for adrenaline as she pushed him in the back to make him move.

That did the job. Blinking once, the man sent her a thankful nod, his eyes reflecting the panic that fuelled her movements, before he turned around and raced down the passage.

Malon moved to follow him, but she had hardly moved more than two steps before an icy grip around her wrist stopped her, keeping her in place.

"I see that you could not resist the urge to play the hero." the would-be kidnapper sneered, his entire body still tilted somewhat to the side as he pressed his free hand against the spot on his upper arm where Malon's attack had landed. "Of course, while you may have had the element of surprise on your side before, now, you will soon find that you have made a mistake by not knowing when to back off. But, before we fight, let us introduce yourselves properly." he bowed his head slightly, maintaining eye contact with her during every second and not once loosening his grip around Malon's arm.

She should do something, Malon knew that. She should scream, hit him, twist around and attempt to flee, _anything_ other than staying still. But although her heart was beating so quickly that it might jump out of her chest any moment, and she tried to recall what the last thing she had said to Zelda had been, Malon could not do anything but stare at the man in horror.

"I am Lord Ghirahim, and you will address me as such," the man, Ghirahim, said, still keeping up the twisted parody of an introduction, "and what might your name be?"

It was a good thing that she could not force a word out of her mouth, for right in that moment; Malon was not sure whether or not she trusted herself enough not to give away her full name, bringing everyone she knew in danger in the process. Standing there, petrified, the only thought going through her brain was that this could not be happening. Just a year ago, the city had been completely normal, but now, there was not only a superhero running around, it appeared that someone had decided that every superhero needed a villain, taking up the mantle in question and deciding to use a title as their alias.

Her silence made Ghirahim nod slowly. "Very well, you don't wish to tell me. In that case, I will only have to apologise for the fact that I do not know the name of the one I will be fighting, but if that is what you wish, then so be it."

The edge of the knife flashed as Ghirahim lifted it, and that was all it took for Malon to react.

Diving down, she pulled her arm to her with all of her might, the surprise of the motion causing Ghirahim to let go. The surprise only lasted a millisecond before he realised his mistake, and Malon could feel how the knife cut through the air where she had just been. But by then, she had already regained her balance, shifting her weight around to put as much force as possible into her movements as she twirled around on the spot, aiming for the hand holding onto the handle of the knife as she struck downwards, hoping that her keys would be enough for her to win or at least get a chance to escape.

They were not.

Ghirahim simply stepped aside, the momentum she had gained causing Malon to stumble forwards. As she fought to recover her balance and turn around, she already knew that it was too late.

"How does it feel to know that you could not even stand up to me for more than a minute, to know that you were so arrogant you allowed yourself to think you had a chance of winning this fight?" Ghirahim taunted her, barely pausing to register how Malon tried to get ready to attack before he delivered a swift kick to her side.

Malon stumbled, and the keys clattered loudly against the paved ground beneath her as the pain and shock made her let go of her only weapon.

Stupid, so stupid.

But there was nothing she could do about that now, and instead, Malon did her best to stay upright. If this really was the end for her, she would at least face it with dignity.

And maybe the end was approaching even faster than she had thought, for Malon was certain she could hear sounds coming from up above. She had never been particularly religious, but right then, Malon could not keep the hope that perhaps the goddesses would save her from appearing in her mind, as Ghirahim stepped closer, his smile growing wider and colder as he came to the same conclusion as she had: that Malon had lost the fight.

"You did at least fight bravely," Ghirahim said, an almost proud hint to his words as he lifted his weapon.

She could hear the sounds grow nearer, but it was too late.

Malon closed her eyes, pressing them shut so tightly that bright white flashes of light appeared in front of her.

The horrible sound of something sharp cutting through the air reached her ears, but the next thing she noted was not a sudden sense of pain. No, rather than a sickening sound giving her the knowledge that she was dying here, a loud clang of metal hitting metal echoed through the alleyway.

"What—" Ghirahim gasped, surprise apparent in his voice for a second before he grew cold again, "I see that you still have not learnt your lesson. Do not think that I have given up."

There was the sound of rapid footsteps and the next moment, Malon heard someone crouch down next to her.

"Don't be afraid," a new voice said, and for a moment, Malon thought that it was Zelda who had somehow arrived to save her, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at Sheik's face as the superhero continued, "he won't come back, not right now at least, and definitely not for you, I will make sure of that."

Malon opened her mouth to ask how Sheik could be so sure of that, to demand an explanation for the twinkle in Sheik's eyes, but not a sound came out. Instead, she was met by a burning sensation in her right upper arm, and as she looked down, Malon was able to calmly state that she had not been quick enough to avoid Ghirahim's attack. From the look of it, she had been hit once with the knife, the torn fabric of her sleeve and the steady flow of something red running down her arm serving as proof that, even if she had not felt anything before that moment, she had still gotten injured.

Sheik seemed to follow her gaze as well, seeing the wound and letting out a gasp. "Malon! Are you okay—no, of course not, I—look, don't panic, I will make sure you get to the hospital." walking closer, Sheik was moments away from putting an arm around her shoulders, but he froze halfway through the movement as Malon flinched, instinctively taking a step back, and trying not to think about how her reaction made the superhero look at her like he wanted to curl up on the ground and cry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think..." Sheik shot a look up at the sky, "can you walk on your own? I don't feel good leaving you alone out here, so if I could at least accompany you over to the hospital, Malon, just to make sure that you will be okay."

It was the second time Sheik had mentioned her name, Malon realised. She should probably ask why the superhero of Hyrule knew her name and seemed so adamant on taking her to the hospital, but the only thing she could focus on was the pain shooting up through her arm, the intensity of it increasing with every passing second she spent out there.

At the lack of response, Sheik slowly inched closer to her, and Malon could see how he did his best to move slowly, making sure that she could see every movement. "Malon? Can you hear me?"

She could, but at the same time, it felt like Sheik's voice was coming from another world, just out of her reach.

The corners of her field of vision grew darker, her head lighter, and before Malon had time to do anything, darkness closed around her. The last thing she felt was the world tilting around her and someone—Zelda, she hoped it was Zelda coming to wake her up in the morning—reaching out to pull her towards them.

When she awoke again, she did not find herself in the cold alley, passed out on the ground and with the pavement slabs having left an imprint on her skin.

No, rather, she was lying in a bed, the pristine white sheets beneath her much softer than anything she had ever felt before, looking up into the ceiling of a brightly lit room.

Malon groaned as she tried to sit up, only to find that the aching sensation in her arm matched the way her left ankle hurt as the movement caused her to place weight onto it.

Where was she? What had happened? From the look of everything—her surroundings, the gauze that had been wrapped around her right arm, the bed—she would assume that she was in the hospital. But why?

Her memory did it best to resist giving her an answer as Malon tried to recall the last thing that had happened, but in the end it had to give up and surrender the knowledge to her.

Her breathing got quicker as she remembered how she had gotten into a fight, how she had run into a narrow passage to follow the sound of someone screaming. A knife. Someone named Ghirahim. That explained the gauze as well as the dull ache in her arm, though the questions as to just how she had managed to get out of there alive and to the hospital was still unanswered.

Just then, she heard the door to the room creak open and hastily threw herself back down onto the bed, closing her eyes as she pretended to still be asleep.

"Will she be okay?" Malon heard someone ask, clearly doing their best to keep their voice quiet. Zelda.

The fact that Zelda was close to her eased the amount of worried thoughts whirling through her mind. If Zelda knew where she was and was in the room, then Malon would be fine.

"Yes, we think so. The cut is superficial, so she did not have time to lose much blood—it was most likely the combination of shock, fear, and adrenaline that made her pass out. Though, it was still a good thing you were able to get her here so quickly. Despite the wound itself not being that serious, had we not been able to clean it in time, it could very well have become infected," another voice responded. Most likely some sort of doctor, Malon thought.

But it still made no sense. Zelda had not been there, not before Malon passed out, she was sure of that. The last thing she could remember was Sheik asking her if she could walk, and during that time, Zelda had been nowhere to be seen, and with how determined Sheik had been that he wanted to make sure Malon got to the hospital, she doubted that he would have left her after she had passed out. So how could Zelda be the one who had gotten Malon to the hospital? Had she met Sheik near the entrance, recognised Malon, and then convinced him that she could make sure that Malon would get to safety?

Malon doubted the plausibility of the explanation. Although she would be the first to admit that she had not exactly cared much for what Sheik did while tending to his image of being a superhero, she knew enough about him to rule out the possibility of him leaving anyone he had been able to save before he was absolutely certain that they were someplace safe.

However, Malon could not come up with any other explanation, so that had to be the case, as unlikely as it sounded.

"And has she said anything about why she ran into that alley?" Zelda said. Malon could hear how she and the doctor moved through the room before returning to stand next to her bed.

"No, she has been asleep ever since yesterday, but I am sure that the police will be able to catch the one responsible."

"I sure hope so. This has been the third of these cases, but perhaps this will be the one that allows them to figure it all out."

Since when had Zelda cared that much about the police's work? Malon could not remember any instance of Zelda sparing much more than a passing comment about how she thought that the cost of protecting the city could be reduced by establishing a better way of collecting and storing evidence, and even then, it had always been someone else who had started a discussion about the way the police operated. But now, it seemed that Zelda cared deeply about whether or not the police would succeed.

Of course, part of Zelda's eagerness for more details about the investigation could perhaps also have been caused by the fact that she knew the one Ghirahim had attacked. Malon knew that if it had been the other way around, if Zelda had been the one in the hospital with a cut that could have become infected had it not been for a ridiculous amount of sheer luck, she would have been the first to go out and search for the one who had caused her girlfriend such pain to make sure that they would regret it.

Around her, the hushed conversation between Zelda and the doctor continued, but although Malon fought against the blanket that lowered over her mind, desperate to stay awake for just a little longer to get a chance to hear more, she did not manage to resist for more than half a minute, before the voices became so muffled that she could no longer make out the words and she drifted off to sleep again.

The next time Malon woke up, Zelda was sitting in a chair next to her bed.

Seeing how Zelda was slouched over, her chin resting lightly on the duvet that covered Malon, she tried not to move around to much while pushing herself up into a sitting position, but even the small movement caused Zelda to stir.

"Malon?" Zelda asked, mumbling as she reached up to rub the heels of her hands against her eyes, lifting her head up from the blanket. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, but I see that you might not be."

Zelda let out a low chuckle. "No, I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep for a bit there." She reached out, perhaps to pat her hand, but stopped just before she made contact. Malon saw how Zelda's gaze lingered on her arm, so she reached out to place her right hand on top of Zelda's, bringing it down to rest on her leg to show her that it didn't hurt, or at least that she was able to ignore it.

"How much time…?" she couldn't make it through the entire sentence, but Zelda already knew what she had meant.

"You were unconscious when you were brought in. They told me that you woke up briefly just after they had made sure that you would make it, but after that point, you have been asleep for the entire time, so about three days, or at least it is now a little over three days since I got the call that you were here."

Zelda looked tired, her eyes not as bright as they used to be. Instead, a dull layer had appeared over them, mirroring the way a faint crease was sitting in between her brows, a memento of all the worry Malon had caused her.

"I'm sorry—" Malon began, but Zelda interrupted her.

"For what? Choosing to save someone who called for your helped? For the fact that a criminal had managed to almost get away with his victim? For being attacked? None of that is your fault, so don't you dare attempt to apologise for it."

A tiny smile made its way to Malon's lips as she looked over at Zelda, the passion behind her speech having made the blonde reach out to place both of her hands on top of Malon's. "No, not for any of that. It is for the fact that I pretended to still be asleep when I woke up."

Zelda stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I woke up in this room… some time ago, I am not sure exactly how much, but I closed my eyes so that you and the doctor would think that I was asleep."

"So you had your eyes closed the entire time, but you still knew that it was me?" Zelda asked.

"Well, yes," Malon said, slightly confused by Zelda's odd reaction. She had expected disappointment and even sadness, but this, Zelda looking like she was worried about something else entirely, baffled her, "I recognised your voice, but I didn't dare to open my eyes to look since I didn't want the doctor to figure out that I was awake already. And it worked, for I heard some of your conversation, and I wanted to ask you how you found me that quickly."

"What?" Zelda's voice rose halfway through the word, and it was obvious to Malon how Zelda was fighting for it to not go any higher.

"Well, I had left my phone at home, and I was not where you would have expected me to be, so how did you find me in time—not that I am complaining of course," Malon tried to soften the tension between them with a giggle, but the attempt fell flat, so she cleared her throat with a cough, "I am just curious."

"Yes," Zelda said, her voice monotone, almost like she was repeating something she had heard before, "I found you, of course. To be honest, I am not really sure why I did, I just… had this feeling that there was something wrong, so I went to look for you, and when I could not find you anywhere near your usual path between Marin and our house, I began to worry, and then I just made a lucky guess, I suppose, when I went into that passage to look for you, as you did not look great when I found you."

"And what about Sheik?"

Zelda's eyebrows rose as she shifted in her chair. "What about him?"

"Where was he when you found me?"

"I don't think I understand what you mean."

"Oh, so then he must have left. I just thought…" Malon shook her head to get her thoughts back under control, "you see, Sheik showed up at the last moment and somehow managed to save me, but I passed out, and then he must have left me. It's just weird, because he seemed so insistent that he needed to make sure I got to a hospital."

"Well, he must have been busy then, because I did not see anyone other than you when I found you," Zelda confirmed with a nod, "but even if he left you, I'm just happy that he got to you in time."

"So am I." her gaze drifting away from Zelda, Malon's attention was caught by the stack of papers lying on the table next to her bed. Newspapers, it seemed, though Malon still gestured towards them as she asked. "What is that?"

Zelda followed her line of sight, and Malon could have sworn that she saw a panicked expression pass over her face when Zelda realised what she was looking at, but it was gone before she got a chance to confirm it.

"Those, uh, they are just something that I brought with me to read while you were still asleep. Here, let me just get rid of them for you, they don't need to be here anymore." Zelda reached out to pick up the stack, but before she had the chance to make contact, Malon had twisted around to catch her hand.

"No, wait, I want to know what has happened while I was asleep," she said, managing to snatch a newspaper from the top of the stack before Zelda had time to protest. She could almost feel how Zelda was staring at her as she placed the paper down in her lap, glancing over the front page.

Her heart skipped a beat. A picture was taking up almost the entirety of the front page of the newspaper, leaving only space for a headline and a few lines of text underneath, but that was not what really surprised her. Instead, it was the fact that the picture showed Sheik—the superhero easily recognisable by his costume—in front of the hospital, carrying someone in his arms. It took a moment before Malon's tired brain connected the dots, recognising the flannel of her shirt and the way her red hair fell over Sheik's arm. It was her. It was a picture of Sheik carrying her into the hospital.

But that did not make any sense. Sheik could not have been there, not when both the doctor and Zelda had said that Zelda had been the one to bring her in, Zelda even confirming that Sheik had not been anywhere to be found when Zelda had stumbled upon her in the alley.

"Zelda," Malon began, "didn't you say that Sheik was already gone when you found me?"

Zelda only bowed her head.

"How could they then get this picture? It doesn't look like they edited it, and from what I know, this newspaper would know better than to print a lie. But it just doesn't make sense."

"Malon, please, I promise you that I can explain it all later, but not here."

"What do you mean?" Malon looked over at Zelda, only to be taken by surprise by the pleading look that Zelda was sending her.

"Can we wait with this conversation until we are at least away from here?" Zelda asked.

Normally, Malon would have considered pressing on, asking for an explanation once more, but the desperate look in Zelda's eyes and the way she kept sending short glances over towards the door, seemingly certain that Malon would not notice, made Malon comply instantly.

"Okay, it can wait for later," Malon agreed, and the sigh of relief that Zelda let out was loud as Malon continued, "but what can't wait, however, is the rest of this newspaper. I want to know everything that has happened over the last three days, so get ready for the questions!"

Zelda's lips curled upwards, forming a smile. "I will."

With the promise of soon getting the answers to her questions now secured, Malon leant back a little, relaxing while she and Zelda chatted about the rest of the contents of the newspapers.

In the end, Malon was allowed to leave already the next day, though that was only after countless of warnings that, should anything happen to the wound or should it begin hurt again, she would have to rush to the hospital again. But the doctor soon reached the end of her warnings and after one last check that everything really was fine, Malon was allowed to go home again.

She could already imagine the pile of homework that was waiting for her after almost five days of missed work.

Zelda led her out to the parking ground where Malon's trusty old car, Epona, was waiting for them. The red-brown surface of the vehicle was a sight for sore eyes, and perhaps Malon would have run over to it just to make sure that it was really there, was it not for how tense Zelda was next to her. So, instead, she waited patiently, allowing Zelda to hold the door to the passenger seat open for her.

"So," Zelda said as she fastened her seatbelt, slowly making her way through the parking area and out onto the road, "let me guess… you want to continue the conversation we had about the picture?"

"Yes."

Malon could hear how Zelda sighed, leaning in over the steering wheel for a moment before sitting up straight again.

"Then I guess that I owe you an explanation," Zelda said, breaking the silence between them, "you just have to promise me that you will wait with the questions this will undoubtedly leave you with until I am done and that, no matter what, you will not freak out."

"Whoa, what kind of secret are we talking about," Malon asked, adding a laugh in an attempt to improve the situation, "you haven't done anything illegal, right?"

A faint smile appeared on Zelda's face. "No, nothing illegal."

"Well, how bad can it really be then?"

"I don't know if you will still be thinking that in a couple of minutes." Zelda chuckled. Her voice was low enough that Malon was not sure if Zelda had intended for her to hear it, so she stayed quiet, waiting for Zelda to elaborate. Outside, the tall buildings began to grow smaller as they got closer to their neighbourhood, and just as Malon was beginning to wonder if maybe she should be the one to make sure the conversation did not end, Zelda continued. "You remember how you heard the doctor say that I had brought you to the hospital?"

"Yes, and you confirmed that it was the case later."

"I did. And, technically, that was not a lie, but I could still not really risk that you would tell the doctor that I was the one who had brought you in."

"Why not?"

She saw how Zelda clutched the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "Because they didn't know. Or at least they didn't know that it was me."

"What are you talking about?" Malon asked, already noticing how, even though she had been declared fit enough to go home, her mind was still struggling to catch up with everything that had happened. "I heard you and the doctor talk about how lucky it had been that you had found me in time."

"Yes, but the doctor didn't exactly know that it was me." taking her eyes off the road for a second, Zelda shot Malon a look, her eyes wide and scared, the surprise of seeing Zelda like this enough to make Malon forget how she should probably have asked Zelda to keep her eyes on the road. "Look," Zelda said, before breathing in deeply, "I promised to tell you the truth, so I am just going to say it now: the reason the stories about who had been the one to find you and take you to the hospital did not add up was that I had my own secret that I needed to make sure would stay a secret. I am Sheik."

Around them, the sound of the rest of the traffic dimmed until the only thing Malon could hear was her own heartbeat and the way her breathing sped up while her brain fought to make sense of Zelda's words.

Sheik. Zelda was Sheik; her Zelda was the one who had been running around the city, wearing a costume while being superhero.

Zelda had been the one to save her.

"What?" Malon breathed, and Zelda seemed to have expected that response, for despite how Malon rationally knew that the noise coming from the traffic outside the car was fairly loud, loud enough to drown out the word, Zelda did need her to repeat the question.

"I did tell you that I needed you to promise me not to freak out." the statement was followed by a chuckle, though there was no humour to be found in the sound. "But that is it. That was my great secret."

Malon's mind was still spinning from the revelation, thoughts weaving in and out of her mind, some in order, some making sense, though most of them were just a jumble of words and questions mixed up to form a cloud of pure confusion. However, after a few seconds, one question in particular began to take form.

"But how? How did you manage all of that, how can it be that I not once suspected that it could be you?"

"To be honest, there were a couple of times where I was certain that you had figured it out—that time where you saw the cut, I thought for sure that I would not be able to come up with a convincing lie in time—but I must have been a better actress than I had thought. Other than that, I made sure to keep my costume hidden away from our house most of the time—"

"You hid it in the lab?" Malon guessed.

"Not quite," Zelda said, shaking her head slightly, "I would never have been able to get it in there without anyone noticing, but I did hide it in the old shed right behind the lab. That way, I could go there to get it and since practically no one ever needed anything in there, the risk of anybody finding the suit was as close to non-existent as it could be." a short laugh interrupted Zelda's explanation. "To be honest, after Sheik began to grow popular, I don't even think anyone would have raised an eyebrow if they did find his costume somewhere, they would probably just have assumed that it belonged to a child who did not know how to take care of their stuff. I had never expected that to happen, but I am not complaining. Had it not been for the amount of people dressing up as Sheik, I don't think I would have been able to keep my identity a secret for so long, and the fact that I could allow myself to accept risks did help me to do more than I would otherwise have been able to." Zelda's paused and her eyes grew shiny, her voice trembling slightly as she continued. "If I have to be honest… I am not sure if I would have been in the area that evening, had it not been for that. You see, I had already gotten close to the mask sliding off my face earlier that day, but the knowledge that, even if people were to see me running around looking like Sheik, they would most likely just assume that I was someone dressing up as him, was what made me decide to keep looking for people in need of help for a little bit longer. I… I can't tell you how glad I am that I made that decision back then."

Zelda reached over to take her hand, keeping it there for a moment before she had to place both hands on the wheel again. During the time the gesture lasted, Malon did her best to assure herself that she had indeed gotten out of that fight practically unharmed. In Malon's head, however, the events of five days ago kept on repeating over and over again, the moment Sheik came to her rescue having her interest in particular.

She had hid her face, her eyes having been pressed shut, but still… how could she not have recognised Zelda? How could she not have realised exactly who the person coming at the last moment to save her had been?

"Malon?" Zelda's voice cut through to her. "Will you please say something? Anything, I just… I need to hear you say something."

"I…" Malon began, though she found that she did not know which words should follow next. Clearing her throat, she tried once more, "I don't know what to say. I mean, of course I am happy that it was not something illegal, but… I just—this is a lot to take in, and I don't really know how to."

"Neither do I," Zelda admitted, "but now that you already know my secret, I can promise you that I can tell you the truth to any question you might have about it all."

"Okay…" Malon said, dragging out the end of the word, "can I then ask you why… why you began all of this?" she accompanied the question with a vague gesture towards nothing in particular and hoped that Zelda would be able to guess that she was referring to everything related to Sheik.

It seemed that it was enough for Zelda, as she nodded. "Of course. Do you remember what I told you about how my father had wanted me to be able to defend myself so he signed me up for all kinds of classes that could help me do that while I was younger?"

"Yes." How could Malon have forgotten about that? It might have been a few years ago, but hearing Zelda's explanation for how she had been able to climb up to their flat with nothing but the drainpipe to help her to pick the lock on the door connecting their living room with the balcony and open up the door for Malon that one time when they had both forgotten their keys had been so bizarre that she doubted she would ever forget about it.

"Well, I happened to be walking home alone after work one evening—you know, just trying to get home as quickly as possible—when I heard someone yell something about a thief. So I hurried over to see if I could help, and well… I could." seeing the slightly alarmed look on Malon's face, Zelda added. "I just ran over to them, grabbed the bag the thief had taken, before calling the police, but he did try to grab the bag again until he had to give up and run away. After that… I don't know, but I just had this feeling that I could do more, that I had a responsibility to help others now that I had seen how happy the little boy had been when I returned the backpack to him."

A moment of silence passed before Malon was able to say anything.

"Wow."

"Yeah," a smile tugged at Zelda's lip, "I know that it doesn't make sense, but I just—"

"No, no, that wasn't what I meant!" Malon hurried to assure her. "It's just… wow. I'm just amazed that you had the courage to put yourself in harm's way like that—I am pretty sure that I would just have taken the story you just told as a sign to avoid the area, or at least not that I should try to search for danger like that again."

"Says the one who just got out of the hospital because she decided to try to fight someone who was armed with a knife."

There wasn't really anything she could say to argue with that logic, Malon had to give Zelda that. Now, after having had time to reflect on what had happened, the danger she had been in when she had barged headfirst into the situation with nothing but her keys was really starting to dawn on her. So, instead of denying that it had not been the smartest move, Malon responded with a short laugh. "Yeah, okay, I should probably not be the one to remind you not to put yourself in danger."

"Nope," Zelda agreed, "you definitely shouldn't."

Zelda kept her eyes on the road, looking as focused as ever. Still, Malon could see the difference the last few seconds had made; Zelda was visibly relaxing more and more as the seconds passed, her shoulders gradually lowering, just as her smile grew wider and less unsure. Malon hated the fact that she already knew how her next question would end all of that.

"So…" she began, already trying to convince herself that she really didn't need the answer. But there was no delaying the inevitable, and Malon knew that she would not be able to continue on from here without knowing, so she finished, "how long have you been doing this? Being Sheik, I mean?"

The relaxed atmosphere disappeared in an instant. Just as Malon had predicted, Zelda's grip around the steering wheel tightened, her mouth pressed together in a thin line, while her shoulders tensed.

"Malon…"

"I am not trying to make you feel guilty, I just have to know. Please, just give me a time, lie if you don't want me to know, I won't mind, I just need some kind of answer."

Despite the traffic and the cars passing by outside, it seemed eerily quiet as Zelda breathed out.

"No. I promised you that I would tell you the truth, and if you want to know something about all of this, then I will tell you. Just…please promise me that you won't be angry, will you?"

With how tense Zelda was and how her girlfriend was blinking rapidly, clearly doing her best not to cry, Malon was not sure it would be safe for them and the people around them if she reached out to touch Zelda's hand, so she forced herself to sit still, though she did lean over as far as the seat belt permitted her to do.

"Hey. Of course I won't be angry. I just want to know how long this has been going on for, that's all. I mean, I think I know roughly when every single newspaper and talk show host began to try to figure out who Sheik was, but you must have begun some time before that. So tell me, how long did it take for you to obtain your superstar-status and become the hero of this entire city?"

It worked. Zelda laughed loudly before wiping the tears away with the heel of her hand. "I wouldn't say that they ever called me that," she said once she was once again the perfect image of a good driver, both of her hands on the wheel, "though it would have done wonders for my self-esteem if they had. But, yeah, there was some time where it was easier for me to do my job because I didn't have to guard my identity that carefully, though it didn't take long before it felt like everyone was willing to risk their own life just to get a chance to get a picture of me, even being willing to completely ignore the fact that I was chasing after someone—actually," Zelda said, shooting Malon a short glance, "it took so little time before it felt like everyone knew about Sheik that I wouldn't be too surprised if you have a fan club of your own by the time the truth about why you were in that alley comes out!"

"Nah, I doubt that I will have to worry about that, I read the newspapers while I was there; apparently I am either someone who was lucky that Sheik was nearby to save me—true, but hardly anything that will get me a fan club—or I am just a foolish girl who was so desperate for Sheik's attention that I staged it all in an attempt to make him save me, all in the hopes that we could then run off together and start a new life."

"Did any of the articles seriously say that?"

"No, not the articles, but I did get a chance to read up on Sheik, and let me just say that a few of the blogs that I found did not like me at all."

"I'm sorry about that—"

"Don't be. It's not your fault at all that someone thinks I would willingly let a person attempt to kill me just to run off with you. If I wanted to do that, I could just have asked you, right?"

"Absolutely."

The look Zelda sent her, soft and with the sun coming in through the car window hitting her face making her glow, was almost enough to make Malon completely forget about how they had even gotten to the point of discussing the possibility of someone deciding to make a fan club dedicated to her. But only almost.

So Malon, ignoring the way her face was growing warmer and probably pinker as well, continued on. "Good to know, that knowledge might come in handy in the future. But I don't think we ever got the answer to the question of how long you have been Sheik for."

"No, you didn't." Zelda took a deep breath, taking such a long time that Malon was beginning to consider just telling Zelda to forget it all, that it really wasn't that important, when Zelda forced out the words, speaking so quickly that Malon already knew that her girlfriend was doing it to not give herself the chance to change her mind. "The incident with the bag took place back in November, and I decided to start being Sheik and try to help out where I could a few weeks after."

Oh.

There was no need for Malon to count the months that had passed since then; the apologetic look on Zelda's face, only visible for a moment before Zelda turned back to look at the road again, her hair falling down and acting as a curtain between the two, already said what they were both thinking: that a lot of time had passed since November.

"So almost six months?" Malon concluded, doing her best to keep her tone light. There was no need for her to make it harder for Zelda, making her feel worse about it all, not when it looked like Zelda was already doing that herself. But even as Malon did her best to make it sound like she was able to focus on the fact that, in the grand scheme of things, six months weren't a lot of time, the only thing going through her brain was how her girlfriend had been out there, putting her life in danger for almost half a year, cancelling plans and having to keep it all a secret from her, and Malon _had not known_. How could she have missed all of that? Had she not been the one to notice how Zelda was constantly coming home with bruises, to see the cut when she had helped Zelda get ready for the party, only to accept the explanation of minor accidents at work being the cause for it all?

Oh, Farore, now it was so obvious to her that all of the stress had not been the result of spending too much time it work. No, it had been caused by the combination of feeling responsible for every crime that was committed in the city and the fact that Zelda had forced herself to keep it a secret from everyone. How could Malon not have realised any of that?

"Yes." the word seemed much louder than it really was in the otherwise quiet car.

"And… were you planning on ever telling me?"

The way Zelda hesitated before speaking made Malon confident that Zelda would not lie in an attempt to spare her feelings. Still, that did not make it hurt less as Zelda shook her head.

"No. I am not really sure what I was thinking. Now, I can see that there was no way I could continue on forever without either telling you or you finding out on your own, but back then… I didn't—I couldn't—" Zelda interrupted herself, pausing for a moment as her voice got less shaky, "I thought that you would be safer if you didn't know about it—" she must have noticed that Malon opened her mouth, for she added, "don't ask me why I thought that, because I don't have a good reason, I just thought that my secret identity should also extend to you. After a few months, when I began to really get involved with the police and saw how I was helping more than I had ever thought possible, I began to doubt that I had made the right choice back then, but it just felt like it was too late by that point."

Silence filled the car, settling between them. It felt like she could reach out, and physically touch all of the things that were still left answered between them. Perhaps that was why Malon, rather than attempting to move in her seat, nodded slowly.

"I get that."

"You do?" Zelda's voice was higher than normal, and even if it hadn't been, Malon would only have needed to lean forward to catch a glimpse of Zelda's face to know that she was coming closer and closer to crying.

"Hmm," Malon repeated, "Zelda, look, I won't lie, I am upset that you didn't tell me—but not for the reasons you think," she added to the end of the sentence, "it's just, for the past six months, you could have died every time you went out as Sheik, and… I don't know, I am just now realising that if anything had happened to you, then that would have been the moment I would have found out you were Sheik, when the police would come to our place to inform me that—that something had happened to you, and I wouldn't know what to do," she could hear her voice shaking as she fought to stay in control of herself. But there was no fighting it, so Malon went silent.

With a deep sigh, Zelda swept her hair back behind her ear, revealing how her eyes were redder, the tears glinting in the sunlight.

"Malon, when I saw you in that alley, about to be hit by that knife… I can't explain everything that went through my brain, and when you then passed out… I thought that I had lost you. On some level, I suppose I had thought about everything I risked while being Sheik, but that was the moment I fully realised just what it might do to you, and for that, I am sorry."

They drove under a bridge, and for a moment, the light dimmed, only the lamps placed along the walls as well as the headlights acting as a light source. Still, as Malon looked down at her hands, she could almost see how the cold the metal of her keys had left indents as she had clutched them, following along after Ghirahim, the metal impossibly cold against her skin even though the heat coming from her should have warmed it up in seconds, could almost see the keys there. And then they reached the other end of the bridge, and the sun once again shone down on the little car, illuminating Zelda.

Feeling the warmth of the rays coming through the window, Malon sent her a hopeful smile.

"So from now on, there won't be any more of that kind of secrets between us?" she asked, hoping that Zelda would not pick up on the hint of nervousness hidden in her voice.

But the way that the corners of Zelda's mouth curled upwards, the gesture not directed at anyone in particular as Zelda kept looking forwards, told her that was not the case. And to tell the truth, Malon was relieved to see that.

"No, from now on, there will be no more of that kind of secrets," Zelda agreed.

The bridge was already far behind them, but as Malon gazed at Zelda, it felt like they had only then gotten out and into the sun again.


End file.
